Sean Gabb
We had a cast iron fireplace delivered this morning. While opening his van, the idiot of a driver allowed his big trolley to slide out into the street. I felt it brush against the fabric of my trousers before it dug a hole in the asphalt. Another half inch, one of our builders assured me, and he’d have had to load me and my shattered left leg into his own van for a dash to hospital, where I’d now be delirious with pain.
My response was to lament how I’d missed my chance of a juicy pay-out for negligence. Now alone and trying to do some work, however, I’m beginning to fret about the uncertainty of life and how many more lucky escapes I shall have.
